


Just the Circumstance

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meeting, M/M, concert fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Darren meet at a concert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just the Circumstance

Chris is alone on a Friday night with nothing but broken plans and a ticket to a concert he's been looking forward to at odd little moments in the back of his mind for months now, not an artist he's ever seen before or one he's fanatical about but a he likes just enough to be really and truly disappointed at the thought of missing it.   
  
It's not Ashley's fault; her cat's inability to discern foods that are fine to swipe from mommy's place vs ones that will send him to the kitty ER is not her fault, and he knows she'd rather be going to the concert than mopping up piles of grossness for the next four hours.   
  
"Just give someone else a call," she'd said.

As if it were actually that easy. Chris has friends, yeah, but they're group-friends. They're show up with Ashley by his side and hang out with friends. They're not call up singularly and invite to a concert friends, not a single one of them.

Except maybe that one guy, the one that tends to follow him around and makes weird faces, but Chris has gone to great lengths to avoid being near that guy so inviting him to a concert seems a little bit like sending the wrong signal.

(Chris considers it, though, just because he's pretty sure he wouldn't get a no.)

He's a young, independent man in his early twenties.

He can go to a concert alone.

Right? "Yes," he says, out loud, even though he's alone. And then clamps his mouth shut and blushes, even though he's alone.

Then he rolls his eyes at himself and goes to pick an outfit out.

*

Chris knows he looks good, but he still pauses to glance at his reflection in a closed shop window. Hair just how he likes, pants just as tight as he likes, t-shirt with a vest over it that hopefully nails the whole casual but well-kept look. He'd briefly considered a skinny tie too but he didn't want to verge too much on hipster. His leather cuff is in place on his wrist, little pendant constant and reassuring.

He wants to fit the tone of the music, and smooth and only a little bit rumpled.

Though, he's here alone. Maybe by the time he leaves he'll be more than a little bit rumpled. He's not the kind of guy that'll blow off friends to go home with someone he meets at a club, but... there are no friends to blow off here, and...

Well. Maybe there's a first time for everything.

*

In the most fantastical corners of his mind, he sees himself strolling up to the bar and a row of men (moderately attractive but not so much so that they'd make him feel unattractive by comparison) all begin to give him various inviting and appealing looks, and even the bartender slides a free drink his way.

In reality, he's wedged into a corner with his leg jammed a little too tightly between the stool and the bar. The bartender hasn't even glanced his way in five minutes and the floor is so packed with fans that even if he decided to give up trying on a drink, he wouldn't make his way even remotely close to the stage.

At least he'll be able to hear Theo, and if no one tall plants themselves directly in front of him then he should still have at least an angled view of the stage...

He sighs and slumps back against the stool. Part of him just wants to go outside, give in to inevitability and go outside to breathe some air that isn't damp-warm and thick with sweat already, wait on a cab out there and just go back home.

He's been looking for a free night to start his Downton Abbey rewatch, anyway.

He's eyeing the exit, seriously considering it, when someone slams into him.

"Oh! Whoa! Fuck, sorry!" The guy grabs onto him, as if he thought Chris were in danger of falling off his stool. "Okay there?"

"I'm fine," Chris says, smoothing his vest down.

"Yes, you are," the guy says, and then his eyebrows shoot up and for a moment Chris thinks he might be embarrassed but then the guy just laughs. "I'm killing it tonight, right? Hey, man. I'm Darren."

Chris finds himself grasping a hand without much thought, not so much having his own shaken as just squeezed and held. "Chris. I'm - I'm Chris."

"And, Chris, you are shockingly sober, aren't you?" Darren's just ever so slightly too-bright smile and the laxness of his features speak to his own inebriation - or maybe, Chris thinks, maybe this guy is just like that.

*

It takes Darren less than a minute to get the bartender's attention.

"My treat," Darren says, and Chris thinks, _oh_.

One drink with Darren turns into two, two into three.

Chris keeps thinking that at some point Darren will just wander off as quickly as he came, but he doesn't. He listens to some of the songs, turning and pressed halfway into Chris, but his attention always comes back to the conversation after a few minutes.

There's a break between the opening act and the guy Chris is here to see. Everyone in the joint must decide to go for a drink in that break, because suddenly it's so tightly jammed with people that there's hardly even room to breathe.

"Come on," Darren says, grabbing Chris's hand. "Let's get a better spot."

Chris quickly tosses aside his previous resignation to watching the concert from the bar and happily follows Darren.

*

The set is smooth but energetic, the singer having a blast and playing with a swaying, grinding crowd. The lights strobe over and around them in a way that threatens to make Chris dizzy.

If he were with Ashley, they'd be dancing together, laughing and countering silly move with an even sillier one, not really caring what anyone thinks. It would be an entirely different kind of evening -

But Ashley isn't here, and Darren is jostled in just behind Chris, his arms around Chris's waist tethering them together. Darren's a little shorter than he is, but not by all that much, and Chris finds himself not minding that at all when Darren has to hitch in closer to hook his chin over Chris's shoulder.

Still he offers, "You want in front of me?"

He has to turn his head and press his mouth right next to Darren's face to be heard over the music, and even then he has to repeat it three times. He doesn't really mind that either, not with how his lips brush the stubble-rough cheek and he can smell how good Darren smells right now.

Darren laughs in his ear when he gets what Chris is saying, and his arms squeeze around Chris. "I like it right here, if that's okay with you."

Their eyes meet and it's one of those charged moments, an acknowledgement and an agreement, and Chris nods. Darren's eyes go crinkly-small with his beaming smile.

*

The next song picks up, a faster beat, and Darren starts to move in time behind him. Chris bites his lip and presses back and thinks, _tonight is for trying something new_.

He turns in Darren's grasp to face him, looping his arms over Darren's neck. There's no breathe, not an inch of space between them. The back of Darren's neck is wet and when Chris's hands drop lower his shirt is damp, too. There's no air in here, no escape, but Chris doesn't want an escape right now.

"Hey there," Darren says, words Chris understands more from watching his mouth move than hearing them.

"Hi," Chris says back, and then he dips his head in and kisses Darren.

Their bodies don't stop; it's just a new layer to the dancing, wet and warm and exhilarating.

*

The lights come up for a slower song next, and Chris and Darren breathlessly detach.

Darren probably would have kept going, but Chris could use the chance to gather his wits up again, so he's glad when Darren doesn't push it further.

He hears a raucous shout of "Darren!"

Darren grabs his hand. "My friends," he says, a quick explanation to Chris. "We showed up together and I kind of-"

"Ditched them?" Chris lifts an eyebrow.

Darren just grins, but Chris is worrying that what feels like a promising start is about to end in a friendly bro-like cockblock by Darren's buddies.

"You disappeared, man!"

"Found someone better than your dumb ass to talk to," Darren says, squeezing Chris's hand.

One of them looks Chris over and then smirks. "D, you dog."

Darren looks sheepishly proud. Chris wasn't exactly looking for the response as some kind of test, but even if it had been... Darren would have passed.

"You heading upstairs?" The darker haired and decidedly more drunk one asks. "We're going up in a few minutes. Up the - stairs."

"Yeah, I wanna see you try." Darren looks at Chris and they both laugh and Chris feels that tingle-spark of connection again. "What do you think, Chris? You want to go upstairs? It's a better view, a little more private..."

"Upstairs?" Chris is confused, unless Darren means- "VIP?"

"Oh, yeah. Didn't I mention?" Darren's grin lends to the idea that he's been saving this card, and that he enjoys playing it. He nods up to the stage. "Theo's one of my best friends, man. We went to college together."

"Oh." Chris looks at how nice and spacious the balcony is, and he looks at the hope and enthusiasm in Darren's eyes, and the decision to say yes is really no decision at all.

*

There are seats, but they stand near the railing. They're side by side, hip to hip, though there's room to spread out. Darren has an arm around him and his fingers keep playing with the edge of Chris's t-shirt.

Darren might not notice he's doing it - or maybe he does notice, maybe it's on purpose. A hot guy is voluntarily giving Chris all of his attention though there are probably any number of interested parties, and it makes Chris feel -

Fucking fantastic, actually. If he weren't genuinely interested he'd have let Darren down politely, but he is. He's so interested.

In fact, he might have to send Ashley's cat a thank you basket of kitty treats just for keeping her home.

"So, you could have been up here this whole time?" Chris asks. It's easier to speak and be heard up here, less immediate crowd noise.

"Yeah, but I couldn't seduce you with my killer dance moves from up here..."

"Oh, is that what that was?" Chris laughs. His stomach is still pleasant flipping. So he was right.

"Yeah. That okay?" Darren's hand slips under his t-shirt and two fingers rub a ticklish circle against Chris's hip.

Chris nods, and then swallows. "Yeah. That's okay with me."

*

"So there's an after party," Darren says, just as Theo is heading into the second song of his encore. "You want to come? Theo and the band and probably a fuckload of people I don't even know, but it's an open bar and I told him I'd drop by..."

"I - sure," Chris says. "That's... that sounds like fun."

"Good." Darren grabs his hand again, not the palm to palm grasp but actually lacing their fingers together. "I don't want to lose track of you just yet."

Chris doesn't even have to answer that, he just smiles.

He'd spent the whole night with Darren, made out with him, and gotten to know him just well enough to know he definitely wants to make the evening last.

He'd have said yes if Darren had asked him straight home, but this is even better.

"Is your car somewhere around here?" Darren asks.

Chris shakes his head. "I took a cab. Since I was coming alone-"

"Sexy and smart, I like that." Darren winks at him. "You can ride with me, then."

*

The party is loud, and crazy, and as much as Chris did think it was fun after the overload of people at the concert and considering his sobering up status, it's too much soon.

He doesn't want to say goodbye to Darren but he's getting that panicky flutter in his gut that always comes around too many people.

It's not how he wanted to end the evening, but maybe if he just gives Darren his number, maybe Darren will call...

Or maybe Darren will just find someone else at the party took up with. The thought adds to the invisible pressure he's feeling all around him and he wishes he had some water. This was a bad idea, he was wrong to think he could do something like this, and this is fate's way of gently reminding him-

"Hey," Darren says, breaking away from the conversation he was in to look over at Chris. There's a moment where he's studying Chris and fuck, this is what Chris hates, when someone realizes, when someone judges him... "You want to get out of here?"

"What?" Chris asks.

"I'm starving, man." Darren grabs Chris by the arm, old fashioned elbow linking. "There's a little diner like four blocks over, we could walk. Get some fresh air. They've got the best fucking burgers. Come on."

Chris doesn't even have time to protest, not that he would. Outside Darren keeps up a steady chatter of conversation with no pauses where Chris would be expected to respond.

By the time the short walk is over, Chris feels entirely in control of himself again.

*

"Where did you even find this place?" Chris says, shoving another fry into his mouth. "This is amazing."

"Crazy story," Darren says. "So I had this flat tire..."

The story rambles on for five minutes and by the end of it Chris is laughing so hard he can't even eat.

He's still smiling when he says, "Why do I get the feeling most of your stories start out with 'crazy story'?"

"See, I don't think you've really been around me enough to judge that." Darren points at him with a fry. "Which means in order to actually have an opinion, you're just gonna need to be around me more."

"Oh yeah?" Chris flirts back, sipping his water. "How much time do you think is adequate to make that judgement all?"

"Well, at the very least, one more night... like maybe, the length of one dinner date?"

Chris wishes he were drunk, just to excuse the next words out of his mouth. "Do you think a breakfast date tomorrow morning would suffice?"

Okay, maybe worth it for the awed and admiring look on Darren's face. "Can I be greedy and ask for both?"

"That kind of greed is allowed." Chris gives in to another impulse and reaches for Darren's phone. It's unlocked and he pulls up the contacts to add his name and number in, then texts himself. "Now I'm going to hold you to that."

*

His phone dies during the night and he and Darren don't have the same model phone, so Chris has a series of texts from Ashley waiting when he finally makes it back to his apartment the next afternoon.

Dinner Friday night had been the plan, but somehow in the course of their night together and leisurely morning in and then lunch at another place Darren found through a "crazy story" they'd decided a week was far too long to wait. He'll have enough time to let his phone charge, shower and then change before he meets Darren for dinner.

He strips down to his underwear (Darren's, borrowed) and then sprawled out on his bed. His phone is plugged in but the cord is just long enough to reach, so he calls Ashley.

"Boy! I been trying-"

"I met someone," he blurts out, not even letting her get out her chastisement.

"Holy shit, the angels have sung and the good lord has come down from on high-"

"Shut up!" Chris laughs. "Shut up. I met someone, and he's - he's amazing.

"Oh, damn. Was that dick made of candy or something? You sound like you're in love already." Ashley's words are purely teasing, but Chris's face lights up with a blush anyway.

"No, it's - I mean, I just met him last night, but... it could happen. I think. With him." It's a ridiculously premature statement to make, but he's never quite felt this feeling before in his life. "I'm seeing him again tonight. I need to go get ready soon."

"Well, fuck, then. Tell me all about him." Ashley says.

Chris settles down on the bed and starts to recount the night for her.


End file.
